


Retribution

by bittenfeld



Category: Mach GoGoGo | Speed Racer, Speed Racer (2008), Speed Racer - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Rape, Sexual Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:16:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4626627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though Speed has turned Royalton’s offer down to join Team Royalton, the older man insists on a little…compensation… for having generously allowed Speed the opportunity…</p><p>Final - Chapter 4:  In possession of evidence of Speed’s abuse, Racer X goes after Royalton and Taylor for revenge – and they better pray for their sakes, that the CIB shows up before he finishes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“If that’s your idea of racing, you can keep it!” Speed turned away.

“Wait,” Royalton stopped him, and Speed looked down over his shoulder. The menace mel­ted away, to be replaced by the sweet oily voice once again. “Please – let’s not part under such … unpleasantries. At least you could express your… appreciation at being offered this opportunity.”

“Yeah, thanks. ‘Bye,” the younger man snapped brusquely, then headed for the door.

“I meant,” Royalton corrected, smiling again, “in a more tangible manner.”

Speed stopped again; this time turning back and piercing the man with a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The older man strolled closer. “That we could perhaps become… better acquainted over some brandy, and then you might want to reciprocate my generous invitation by offering… a little something… in return.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I need hardly tell you you’re an attractive young man, Speed. I’m sure you… divine my meaning?”

Speed stared at him, hardly believing what he was hearing. “You threaten me and my family, then try to proposition me, and expect me to say okay?!” A look of disgust twisted the young man’s face. “You’re even more despicable than I thought. We’re already more acquainted than I ever wish we were. Thanks, but no thanks,” he pronounced crisply. “Goodbye, Mr. Royalton.”

But as Speed reached for the door handle, the door opened in his face. And there stood a security guard gripping two little squirming bodies by the suspenders: a little boy and a chimpanzee.

Speed’s eyes widened in surprise and his irritation spilled over. “Spritle, _what are you doing here?!_ ”

The security guard explained, “I found them sneaking through a restricted area. They must’ve stowed away on the jet, because Smith found candy wrappers all over the plane. What should I do with them, Mr. Royalton?”

“We’re leaving right now,” Speed announced. “Let them go. C’mon, Spritle.”

“Just a minute,” Royalton interrupted. “Well, this changes matters a little, doesn’t it? Now what do you say, Speed? Perhaps you’d like to re-think our conversation?”

Speed glared at the man. “What does _that_ mean? What are you going to do to them? If you hurt them, so help me, I’ll bring this whole place down around your ears!”

Royalton grinned. “Well, that would certainly be entertaining to watch you try. Don’t sound so drama­tic, boy. I have no intention of hurting them or doing anything to them. I will merely hold them – as collateral, if you will – until you remember your manners. Take them to Detention,” he ordered the guard, “while Mr. Racer and I conclude a few matters. Keep an eye on them. Oh, and keep them separate. I have a feeling that together they’re quite an ingenious little pair – if they could make it all the way into a restricted zone, past all my _highly-paid_ guards, and _state-of-the-art_ security systems,” he commented dryly. “Put the monkey in a cage or something,”

“No!” Spritle complained. “Chim-Chim doesn’t want to be in a cage. Let me go! Chim-Chim, I’ll save you!”

Leaning down, Royalton smiled at the little boy. “I understand you have quite a sweet tooth, young man. You know, I think we can satisfy that.”

Immediately Spritle’s expression shifted to interest and excitement. “Cool!” – and his little brother’s naïveté pained Speed’s chest.

Royalton’s attention turned back to Speed. “Now, Speed, do you think you might change your mind?”

“I’m not going to sign with you, Mr. Royalton. You can’t force me.”

“No, of course not,” the older man agreed. “I’ve accepted your refusal. No, I’m speaking of the other little matter. A little brandy, get acquainted – I assure you, no more than half an hour – then you and your brother and the monkey will be free to go. Thirty minutes. Surely you can spare that from your busy schedule, to convey your heartfelt thanks.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You won’t know where they’re being held. And you certainly wouldn’t want to leave with­out them, would you?”

“What if I called the police?”

“They wouldn’t find anything. As far as we know, you’re the only one who we brought here today. We know of no stowaways. It must be a misunderstanding. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want to bother the police over a simple little misunderstanding.”

Speed just looked at the man, anger tightening his chest.

“Thirty minutes,” Royalton repeated. “That’s all.”

“Speed, what’s going on?”

Speed blinked, glanced over at his younger brother. “Do what they say, Spritle. I’ll see you in a little while. And don’t get into any more trouble.”

The guard left with the two in tow.

“Good,” Royalton pronounced, putting his arm around Speed’s shoulders to lead him away from the door. “You’re showing some smarts now.”

“Don’t hurt them,” Speed reiterated, shrugging off the man’s arm.

“I said I wouldn’t. You know, there’s no reason not to believe me, Speed. I haven’t lied to you once. I told you of the riches and fame that would have been yours, had you signed with me, and you know that’s true – look at Cannonball Taylor and Jim Laughlin, and so many others.” His ex­pression turned serious. “And I think I’ve explained quite accurately… what will happen now that you’ve turned down my most generous offer – my dear boy, if I were going to lie to you, I certainly would never have been so plain-spoken about that – in fact, I really do despise having to be that blunt.”

Irritation tightened Speed’s lips.

But immediately Royalton lightened up again. “And when I visited your home, I certainly wasn’t lying when I told your mother what delectable pancakes she makes. Mm! I still think them.”

Speed thought he might be sick over the man’s honey-covered bullshit.

“But anyway, enough of that. Let’s have that brandy. Oh, just one more thing. Gennie!” he called to the open air.

“Yes, Mr. Royalton,” the woman’s voice floated from hidden speakers.

Probably everything they had said in here had been overheard, Speed noted, and no doubt recorded as well. He wondered if there were video cameras mounted too. He wouldn’t be the least surprised. Cursorily, he glanced around the room and spotted a couple of tiny lenses flush with the ceiling moulding.

“Gennie, is Jack Taylor still in the building?”

“I believe he’s in the lounge, sir.”

“Good, well, would you be a dear and send him up to my suite, right away?”

“Yes, sir.”

Opening a back door of his office, Royalton led the way into a luxurious sitting room – obvi­ously the man’s private quarters – and ushered Speed in.

“What was that for?” Speed demanded. “What’s Taylor got to do with this?”

“You’ll see,” the man smiled, pouring three snifters of brandy and handing one to Speed, taking one for himself, and leaving one for their upcoming visitor. “Cheers,” he raised his glass, “to what could have been.”

Speed didn’t acknowledge the toast. However, this was Royalton’s script right now, so he obliged by trying a little sip. The liquor was superb, slipping down his throat like velvet. But he never drank much anyway, and he certainly didn’t want to do anything right now that would hamper his alert­ness, so he set the glass on a nearby side-table.

The door opened, and Cannonball Taylor entered without a knock, as though he was used to coming here often. Speed wondered just how well-acquainted the champion racer and his boss were.

“Come in, Jack, come in,” Royalton greeted, clapping the other man on the shoulder, and offering him the third brandy. “I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

“Speed Racer.” Taylor stepped over to the younger man, hand extended. “So, you decided to join the team. Welcome aboard.”

Speed ignored the proffered hand. His face was serious, with none of the previous excitement he’d expressed upon meeting the world champion a few days before.

“Sorry, Jack,” Royalton corrected. “Unfortunately our young prodigy has decided that Team Royal­ton isn’t quite the career move he’s looking for.”

“Too bad, kid,” Taylor remarked. “You made the wrong choice – but that’s not for me to say.”

“I think I made the right choice, Mr. Taylor,” Speed retorted flatly.

The man shrugged with a little smile. “Well, to each his own. But that means you’ll be brea­thing a lot of my exhaust from now on.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Anyway,” Royalton continued, “young Racer here said he’s very grateful to have been offered the opportunity, and would really like to express his appreciation.”

“ _Now_ you’re lying,” Speed snapped. “I didn’t say anything like that.” He wanted that clear for the hidden cameras and recor­ders. He wasn’t going to let them have anything that could be twis­ted into blackmail later.

“Well, yes,” the older man murmured, “But just a little white lie – rather than embarrassing you by announcing that I had to gently remind you of your manners.”

Speed ignored the fake little chiding. “Just do whatever you’re gonna do, then let me and my brother go.”

“Mm, so eager,” Royalton noted. “At any rate, Jack, I’m aware that, well, to this attractive young man, I probably seem like quite a dull ugly old goat. No doubt he would find it much more exciting – and memorable! – to also share a little bed-time with the world champion.”

“Like hell,” Speed snapped, glowering up at the other driver.

Taylor’s face registered only mild amusement. Obviously this was not the first time this little scenario had been played out. Speed wondered if they did this with all the new signees. Get video of them in compromising positions, then later, if they ever got out of line, threaten them with exposure. Well, Speed wouldn’t give them anything to work with. Any evidence they recorded would only be that of their own criminal rape.

“You said a half-hour,” Speed reminded sharply. “Get it over with.”

“That’s right,” Royalton agreed, “and it looks like we’ve already used up eight minutes. That’s another reason I asked you up here, Jack. You know I’ve never been as fast as you – ”

“That’s true,” Taylor grinned at what was obviously an old private joke between them.

“ – and I’m afraid I’m getting even slower with middle age. So, I might not be able to, uh, finish in half an hour. And I did promise our guest that’s all it would be.” Royalton winked at Speed. “And after all, Cannonball Taylor _is_ the fastest man in the world. So, Jack, if you’d do the honors and go first, that might… _stimulate_ … me into action sooner.”

“Glad to oblige.” Taylor unbuttoned his jacket and began undressing. “Get your clothes off, kid.”

“No,” Speed refused bluntly. “Do what you’re gonna do. I’m not gonna help you rape me.”

The older driver just shrugged as slacks were tossed on top of the jacket across the chair. “Your call, but you’d probably enjoy it more if you joined in.”

“That’s all right,” Royalton interrupted. “I’ll take care of it.” With a hand on the younger man’s back, Royalton accompanied Speed into the bedroom. Speed didn’t acknowledge Royalton, but locked a long cold glower on Taylor until passing beyond him. A little whisper of Royalton’s voice in Speed’s ear. “Don’t be so stubborn, boy. The sooner you get ready, the quicker this will be over, then you and your brother can leave. Why don't you just relax and go along with it?”

Lips tight, Speed unsnapped and unzipped his jeans, then dropped his hands away.

“Now, is that as far as you’re going to go?”

“That’s all you need,” the young man retorted.

The older man clucked disappointment. “Here I’ve offered you all my resources to be at your complete disposal, and all you’re giving in return is just the, uh, _bare_ minimum?”

Grudgingly, watching his captor with cold anger, Speed undressed down to his undershorts. He couldn’t bring himself to strip completely in front of the man.

“That’s much better.” Appraisingly Royalton strolled around him, admiring the youthful physique. “Very nice, Speed. You’re an extremely attrac­tive young man. Very nicely built. It will be a pleasure to… experience… your body.”

Speed said nothing, jaws clenched. He could see light glint off a camera lens hidden in a potted fern in a back corner of the room and pointed right at him. No doubt there were others; and the thought of being viewed by god-knew-how-many voyeurs right now – and worse, being recorded – tightened his muscles, and clenched his stomach nervously.

Taylor entered. He was naked – hard and lean, the body of a star athlete. Leaning against a wall, legs crossed, arms half-folded, he took another swallow of brandy. He too eyed Speed over, slowly up and down, with a silent little smile.

Speed felt his skin crawl.  
. . . . .  
_to be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Spritle being held hostage, Speed has no choice but to comply with Royalton’s eager demands… 
> 
> Royalton grinned. “Well, what a treat for you, Speed, to have Cannonball Taylor himself initiate you into manhood.” Speed just hoped he wouldn’t puke his guts out.

“Tell me, Speed,” Royalton queried, “I’ve seen you often with that pretty young lady on your arm – Trixie, is it? And no doubt, two young people in love have shared all the joys of youth – ”

“Keep your mouth off her,” Speed demanded levelly.

“But tell me, when it comes to another man, have you had any experience, or are you a vir­gin?”

Cold fury tightened Speed’s chest and narrowed eyes and lips. “ _That_ is _none_ of your damn business… you bastard.”

Royalton’s lips pursed in mock disapprobation. “Such rude words coming from such a nice young man. If your parents were here, I’m sure they’d be shocked to hear such language coming from your mouth.”

“If my parents were here,” Speed countered, “my father would rip your balls off and make you eat ‘em.”

Taylor moved in. “C’mon, kid, we just got the green light. Let’s go.” And grabbing a fistful of thick black waves at the back of Speed’s head, he forced the young man’s face close, and kissed him hard. In irritation, Speed tried to twist his face away, but Taylor jerked his head, forced a tongue into his mouth. Speed grunted helplessly as he was orally violated. He would have bitten the tongue, but he guessed that Spritle might pay the price. A very high price.

Finally Taylor broke the kiss and urged him toward the bed.

Speed just frowned angrily over his shoulder. “Why are you doing this? I admired you.”

“Admiration’s nice, kid. But a good lay is a whole lot better. Now lie down, we’re on the clock.”

Grudgingly Speed leaned down over the bed, arms stiff and hands firmly planted, stance wide. “I don’t think he’s virgin,” Taylor noted. “He assumes the position well.”

“Hmm,” Royalton mused, “I wonder who could be getting a piece of this pretty ass. Every­one knows Rich Carlton’s a faggot. But he doesn’t seem your type, Speed. And Crash Harris likes the boys too, but mostly he prefers them even younger than you. Or, say, how about Racer X? You two seem to enjoy each other’s, uh, company quite a lot.”

“Nah, not Racer X,” Taylor commented dryly. “That bastard’s got balls of ice. I’ve never heard of him screwing anybody, male or female. In fact, whenever he jacks off, he pro­bably gives himself frost­bite.” The two men grinned at the lewd image.

The snide remarks about a man Speed knew as a friend irritated him. But he was aware that if he com­plained, the obscene comments would just escalate.

“Anyway,” Taylor mentioned, “maybe that’s the way your boyfriend likes you. But that’s not what I want. I want you on your back so you can see everything I do to you.” And urging the youn­ger man around to face him, he took the opportunity to slide a hand into the front of Speed’s shorts and feel him up.

Speed twitched in distress as the man groped him, and grabbed the man’s wrist to stop him. Taylor hesitated for a moment, looking Speed over, then abruptly pushed his hand further into Speed’s crotch, pressing his cock and balls back uncomfortably and getting in deep enough to touch his anus. In sudden shock, Speed jumped, eyes widening, and jerked away sharply. Clumsily he half-wrestled, half-tripped. That was fine with Taylor. With Speed on hands and knees on the floor, the older man embraced him from behind, pulled his briefs down off his buttocks, and rubbed a finger into his cleavage. “Don’t! Stop it!” Speed demanded, writhing and fighting, and felt even more shame when his voice be­trayed him in a whimper.

A taut grin tugged the corner of Taylor’s lips, as he wrestled the boy down and pinned him. “You don’t really want me to stop,” he re­torted, while teasing the sensitive spot, then forcibly shoved a finger in. Again Speed jerked, trying to free himself from the impalement, but couldn’t dislodge the hand in his underwear, gripping him firmly between the legs. Nor could he prevent the little noise that moaned from his throat.

Another lens glinted, and the humiliation nearly made him sick to his stomach.

“He’s real tight and real tender,” Taylor noted, feeling him inside, “ – maybe he is virgin after all. Answer the question, kid – it’ll make a difference as to whether you get hurt or not. Have you ever done this with a man before?”

Finally, nervously, Speed admitted in a small voice. “No.” The uncomfortable sensation of fullness distressed him, but even worse, aroused him. In shame, he just wanted it to end.

“Too bad,” Taylor responded, “Maybe I’ll take a little pity on you, then. But it’s still gonna hurt.” He pulled his finger out. Helplessly Speed moaned at the relief.

Royalton was undressing. He grinned at Speed’s confession. “Well, what a treat for you, Speed, to have Cannonball Taylor himself initiate you into manhood.”

Speed just hoped he wouldn’t puke his guts out.

Taylor pushed Speed back onto the bed, gripping his calves and dragging his legs until his hips were right on the edge of the mattress, then pulled off his briefs, and pushed his knees to his chest. Then using his thumbs to open the young man, Taylor rammed him. With a yell, Speed bucked. But Taylor just used Speed’s motion to shove in another inch.

Taylor didn’t try to make it good or bad for Speed; he just did whatever to get himself off, changing his rhythm, gripping Speed’s thighs to change the angle and depth of penetration, whatever.

Speed was in pain, panting, biting his lips, face screwed up, fingers digging into the edge of the mattress as he was pounded. Tears leaked from tightened eyelids.

“Open your eyes, kid,” Taylor grunted between pants. “I told you I want you to watch me doing you.” Speed ignored him, and Taylor gave him a crisp slap on the face. “I said open ‘em.”

Speed did, but only to glower up wetly at his abuser.

Finally the man’s pumping increased, hard and deep and fast, bouncing the bed, then he orgas­med and shot his load inside the young man. Speed cried out in pain, but also in shock as his body surrendered to the sexual stimulus, he couldn’t prevent it, and he squirted everything he had all over himself and all over Taylor.

Then Taylor collapsed on top of him, smearing Speed’s cum between their bodies. Panting hard, half-chuckling, he gasped, “That was real good, kid. You’re a hot little piece of work. I’ll remember this for a long time – I hope you do, too.”

Speed said nothing. He was just disgusted – with Taylor, but even more with himself, humili­ated that his body would betray him like that.

Finally Taylor climbed off, wiped the back of a hand across sweaty face and dry lips. “All right, Mr. Royalton, your turn. He’s lubed and stretched for you.” Casually he shook off the last few drops of cum from his cock onto Speed’s face.

Royalton had disrobed, and was sitting in a nearby overstuffed chair, watching and masturba­ting while drinking his liquor. “Very good performance,” he approved, rising from the chair, and setting the snifter aside. “And y’know, Jack, I think you just set a new course record. Three minutes, 28 seconds. But you know what, you may just have to keep an eye on this young competitor, after all. He came at the same time you did, and he wasn’t even trying. I’ll bet he’ll be giving you a run for your money on the track.” Sensually his gaze roamed over the limp sweaty figure sprawled back on the bed. “Speed Racer. I think I shall always remember you just like this – as a lovely, well-fucked young man.”

He went over to Speed, pupils dilated with arousal. “Now, my boy. I’ve allowed you a chance at this team, and I’ve even given you the opportunity to lose your virginity to the world cham­pion. I think it’s time you gave something in return, don’t you agree?”

Speed refused to answer, refused to even look at him.

“Thirteen minutes left,” Taylor announced. He was relaxing in the chair now, still naked, still flecked with Speed’s cum. One ankle rested on a knee, fully exposing his softening but still swollen wet genitals. He hadn't even bothered to wipe off the slime.

“That should be enough,” the older man surmised, already partially erect from his own hand­ling. “Now, c’mon, boy, I want you to watch too.”

Speed stayed where he was, flat on his back, legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He didn’t care any more.

Royalton took him. A lot clumsier and heavier that Taylor’s sharp edge. More like a rutting walrus. “Mm, nice and wet inside,” Royalton commented, sliding inside Speed’s channel already full with Taylor’s cum. Unlike Taylor, he lay down on top of Speed, rubbed his hands all over the young man’s body, fondled his genitals. And he kissed with wet slobbery kisses, pushed his tongue into Speed’s mouth like he was trying to go down his throat. Speed struggled, forced down vomit that rose in his gullet. But most of his struggling only seemed to arouse and amuse the older man, so finally Speed just let go and endured.

“Seven minutes to go,” Taylor noted.

The older man was working deep inside, gasping in rhythm to his pounding, hot breath blow­ing in Speed’s face. Speed did not even want to imagine what the remote viewers were seeing. At the thought, tears leaked down his cheeks. To hide the evidence, he rested an arm across his eyes.

“Final lap,” came the notice from the man in the chair.

“I’m… almost… there,” Royalton gasped. Wet silver hair hung over his forehead, as he pumped in a frenzy until finally exploding inside Speed. In ecstasy he rode all the way home, then collapsed and finally pulled out just before the half-hour mark.

Speed sat up stiffly, not looking at anyone, retrieved his clothes and started to re-dress. But Royalton interrupted, indicating a door beyond which opened onto an elegantly appointed lavatory. “You don’t want to leave here smelling like a whorehouse, do you?” (and this _was_ a whorehouse, Speed considered.) “Please – avail yourself of the facilities. And by the time you’re done and dressed, I promise, your brother and his little friend will already be waiting in my office for you. Oh Gennie!” he called again to his invi­sible secretary.

“Yes, sir,” the woman responded.

“Would you please notify Davis in Detention to bring our two little unexpected visitors to my office? Immediately.”

“Of course, Mr. Royalton.”

Speed was almost numb as he entered the bathroom. For awhile he thought he was going to vomit, and bent over the basin, arms braced on the counter, spit drooling down his chin. But finally the sensa­tion passed. Perfunc­torily he used the toilet, then washed up, and re-dressed.

True to his word, Royalton had Spritle and Chim-Chim ready in the office by the time Speed emerged. The two looked none the worse for wear; in fact, they were pretty hyped up on sugar. Royal­ton had Davis escort them to the jet pad, and the Harrier flew them home.

On board, Spritle was chattering, “Look, Speed, Mr. Davis showed me a neat card trick, you wanna see it?”

“No, not now.” Glumly Speed stared out the window.

“When we get home, can we go out for ice cream? Can we, pleeze?”

“No!” Speed snapped.

“Wow, you sound mad like when Pops chews you out. Did Mr. Royalton chew you out or somethin’?”

That finally cracked Speed’s control, and he yelled at his little brother, “ _Shut up, Spritle!_ ”

“Wow.” The kid plopped back, almost as if blown back by a gale. “You _are_ mad.”

Immediately Speed regretted it, and his expression loosened. But he said nothing more, just gazed unseeing out the window.

* * * * *

_to be continued… Racer X finds out what they did to his little brother…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speed must deal with seeing Taylor at the race-track from now on, and the tension hurts like a knife. Until he realizes he’s not alone – that he has a friend who would do anything for him…

Back home, Speed tells everyone about the consequences that Royalton threatened him and the family with. Of course he says nothing about the rape, so everyone assumes that it’s just the threats that are upsetting him. Pops insists that there’s nothing Royalton can throw at them that they can’t handle. Mom goes to Speed’s room, comforts him, assures him that they’ll work through what­ever happens. Later, Trixie sits beside him on the bed, takes his hand, asks if he wants to go out for pizza and a movie, do something to get his mind off the day. Of course she has no idea what really happened to him, and that it will take a lot more than pizza and a movie to get his mind off it. Aim­lessly he rubs his thumb across her knuckles, demurs, says he’s really tired and he just wants to go to bed.

* * * * *

The next race is a big one at a lavish venue with all the glitterati in attendance. Speed is nervous about going, but he has to, in order to maintain his standing in the points. He stiffens his resolve, determined not to be psyched out by them, or even by his own uneasiness. He’ll just make sure not to let Royalton or Taylor get him alone at any time.

The drivers’ locker room is huge and fancy, well-appointed, with a full gym, massage rooms, etc. – a whole lot better than the cramped team trailers and motor-homes.

Speed is trying to avoid Taylor, but Taylor notices him, passes by closely while he’s changing into his driving suit, and makes some amused intimate comment, “I’m looking forward to our next time together – I hope you are too.”

Speed snaps back bluntly, “Why don’t you just go watch the video and play with yourself?”

“Why don’t you come watch it with me?” Taylor ripostes teasingly. “It’s very… stimula­ting…”

From a short distance away, Racer X sees them, although he can’t hear what they’re saying. They don’t notice him

Close to Speed’s ear, the older man whispers, “I hope you’re ready for me. After I whip your ass on the track, I’m gonna whip it bed. Hard.”

Speed twitches, but otherwise ignores the man’s presence, and goes on with his own prepara­tion. He’s not sure if Taylor really intends to do some­thing, or if the man is just talking to unsettle him. Taylor just chuckles and moves on.

But then during the pre-race briefing, Taylor sits right behind Speed. Speed is obviously quite agitated by the man’s presence, as if feeling the man’s eyes undressing him. The interplay doesn’t escape Racer X’s notice. Speed notices Racer X looking directly at him from across the room, and it makes him even more uneasy.

As they leave the meeting room, Taylor is close to Speed. Speed tries to hurry out. Racer X quickly crosses the room over to Speed, cutting Taylor off, as though unintentionally. He starts chat­ting with Speed (deliberately in Taylor’s earshot), “Heard on the grapevine you were considering signing on with Royalton. Turned him down, huh? Good for you – that bastard’s as crooked as they come.”

Taylor’s face tightens in irritation, and Racer X gives him just a brief glance. But in that brief look, both men size each other up immediately and accurately.

“Yeah.” Speed doesn’t really even want to talk to Racer X right now, he just wants to get to the Go Team garage and let the racing prep clear his mind.

Ultimately Speed’s race performance is also severely affected, which Taylor takes advantage of. Racer X intervenes as much as he can. Taylor constantly harries and harasses Speed. Racer X frequently blocks him, irritating Taylor even more. It almost seems that Racer X is more focussed on running back-up for Speed than in winning the race. Finally Taylor forgets about Speed and goes furiously after Racer X, which is exactly what Racer X intended. The two men duel the rest of the race.

Because of all this interplay, none of the three make it to the podium, although they do finish in the points. Racer X comes in 4th, Taylor 5th, and Speed maybe 7th or 8th.

Speed doesn’t change in the elegant locker room. He quickly grabs his stuff and goes back to the cramped Go Team trailer, to shower and change in private.

Pops talks excitedly about the dicing among the three of them – of course he has no idea of the underlying cause – but Speed only mutters a few generalities, he doesn’t want to talk about it.

The family goes home.

Speed says he’s tired, goes to bed early. But instead of falling right to sleep, he lies awake for hours, replaying the whole drama in his mind.

Until finally he gets up around midnight, while all the rest of the family is asleep, and takes the Mach 5 out to the nearby practice track just to be alone and meditate, like he’s done numerous times in the past. This is his holy place. He leans the seat back to stare up at the stars.

But he’s not alone. After awhile, he realizes another car has been there a short distance away, all the while – the Shooting Star. Racer X strolls over.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” the older man comments.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Speed reacts a little sharply, and straightens the seat-back to sit up. “What are you doing here?”

Racer X doesn’t take offense at the bluntness. “I figured you’d come here.”

“How’d you know that? You’ve been waiting for me?”

“Yeah, since about eight o’clock.” The older man doesn’t answer the first question.

“Why?”

Racer X indicates the Mach 5’s empty passenger seat. “Mind if I join you?”

“No, go ahead,” Speed relents, without much emotion.

Racer X slides into the seat next to Speed. “After our little tap dance on the track today, Taylor was looking for you in the locker room again.”

“Oh god,” Speed mutters, leaning an elbow on the edge of the door and propping his forehead on fingertips.

“Y’know,” Racer X mentions, “all day today he’s been acting like he’s got a bee in his pants. So have you. What’s going on between the two of you?”

Speed frowns, snaps abruptly, “Nothing.”

Racer X knows better. “Is he just trying to psych you out? Or did something happen when you turned Royalton down?”

At that, Speed physically jerks, as if stabbed by a needle, and stares at Racer X, wondering if he knows. Then realizing in a moment that he couldn’t possibly know, Speed slumps back. Of course, by then it’s too late – his over-reaction has given everything away. “Just let it alone,” he insists, eyes closing. “I don’t want to talk about it. And anyway, why should you care?”

“I care because I’m a friend. Taylor’s bullying today went way beyond simple gamesman­ship. Speed, if he or Royalton are causing you problems – in any way – let me know. I can help.”

But Speed just shakes his head. “There’s nothing you can do. Nothing anyone can do.”

“What happened?” Racer X urges. Obviously there’s a lot Speed isn’t saying. “Did either of them physically threaten you or hurt you?”

Distress tightens Speed’s expression. In concern, Racer X touches Speed’s arm. But Speed is suddenly remembering what Royalton and Taylor had joked about; and considering the way Racer X has been hovering near all day, he wonders, “ _maybe he_ is _coming on to me_.” Abruptly he jerks away, and de­mands, “Don’t touch me! Just stop it!”

And suddenly it all becomes clear. A cold anger settles in Racer X’s chest. “Speed, did either of them actually molest you?”

A tear rolls down Speed’s cheek, and he gives a quick nod, body trembling tightly.

The older man’s visage hardens.

“Have you told your parents?”

“I can’t tell my parents!”

“Then tell me. Talk to me. Speed, please. Was it Taylor?”

Another brief nod. A shuddering intake of breath, as Speed finally admits, “It was both of them. They, uh… made me…uh…” His voice catches and he looks away, pressing his mouth against his propped fist, throat too tight to speak.

Racer X releases a taut breath.

“And… I think they recorded it,” Speed continues softly, “I saw some cameras hidden around the room.”

The cold anger solidifies within Racer X. “All right. Those bastards are going down.”

“How? Royalton’s too big, he’s above the law.”

“No, he’s not. I have contacts, I can do something about him. But you’ve got to let me know what happened, you’ve got to coöperate with me.”

“What contacts? Yakuza goons to take him out?”

“No, Speed. The police. A good friend of mine is a police inspector who’s not afraid of Royalton.”

“I’m not afraid of Royalton,” the young man asserts, but moist eyes express otherwise. “But he threatened my family… and my little brother…”

“Spritle?!” and a sudden sharp tension tightens the older man’s voice. “Did they hurt him, too?”

Speed shakes his head, sniffs. “No. But I don’t know what that bastard would have done, if I hadn't let him do… what he wanted to with…” – his voice caught – “… with me…”

And the whole story pours out.

“Royalton said I should… express my gratitude… for being offered an opportunity with his team… And then… he called Taylor in and… said I’d probably like a chance” – voice caught again, tears glistening, but he made himself say it, “… to get screwed by the world champion, too… I told them to go to hell… but they were holding Spritle hostage, so I, uh, couldn’t… um…” Throat choked up again.

Racer X is breathing hard, jaw clenched.

* * * * *

“You still haven’t answered my question – how did you know I’d be here?”

For a long moment Racer X says nothing, before finally replying, “Because I could tell you were very upset about something today. And whenever I’ve got something heavy on my mind, I always go to the track to think things through. I dunno – all alone, in the dark, it seems like a chapel. I guess I just figured you might feel the same.”

Speed is frowning curiously at him, a sense of déjà vu from long ago, except that then he was a six-year-old sitting in the passenger seat of the Mach 5, while in the driver’s seat… “Yeah, I do. Funny you should say that. My brother Rex used to say the same thing. He called it a chapel too – this very track. He told me that the night he left.”

Racer X turned his head to look out at the field, silent for awhile. “Well, I think any honor­able sportsman would feel that way. We offer our very hearts and souls here. And that’s what makes a place holy, I suppose.”

For awhile they sit there, neither saying a word.

Until finally Speed just shakes his head. “I don’t know what to do…” he murmurs helplessly.   He sniffs and blinks back tears. He doesn’t want to cry in front of this man.

X’s lips tighten. “Well, I do, Speed. Tomorrow come with me – we’ll see the inspector.”

Again Speed sniffs a runny nose. “I dunno…”

“Speed, I’ll be with you for as long as it takes, I promise. And I guarantee you – those bastards will never bother you again.”

Finally Speed nods with a tight breath, and for the first time in two weeks, relaxes ever so slightly. “All right.”

* * * * *

 _to be continued_ …


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In possession of evidence of Speed’s abuse, Racer X goes after Royalton and Taylor for revenge – and they better pray for their sakes, that the CIB shows up before he finishes.

Speed goes with X to Detector’s office. Speed is concerned, there’s no way to really prove anything now – after all it’s been several weeks, and he’s taken baths, and washed away all the evidence. But X says the videos are a good start. Speed doesn’t see how they’ll be able to get to them, though, but the inspector assures him they have specialists who can hack into Royalton’s system undetected. Speed finally agrees he’ll do whatever he can to help take Royalton down.

The police hack into Royalton’s computer network. They find the computer library of sex videos that Royalton has amassed. Just as Speed suspected, Royalton has been keeping files on all his drivers – especially any young good-looking naïve ones – and other employees, for possible blackmail purposes, not to mention his own private porn-film collection.

Detector views the one of Speed. It’s one of the hardest parts of his job, watching crimes play out, making sure they have a case, making sure all of the corpus delicti is accounted for. He consi­ders that after so many years on the force he is inured enough to watch with detachment, but that isn’t true. And especially when the victim is an extension of his dearest friend. The other videos he’ll leave to the City Attorney’s office, who will go over them with a fine-tooth comb. Altogether there’s probably enough, based on consecutive sentences, to put Royalton away for life. And Taylor for a goodly portion.

X wants to see Speed’s video, but the inspector refuses. “If you watched it, you wouldn’t be able to think straight. You’d probably kill them both, then I’d have to arrest you for murder, and how would that help your brother?”

X’s lips tighten. “I’m going out for awhile. Stuffy in here – I need some fresh air.”

“X,” Detector calls after him, but X walks out without acknowledging.

* * * * *

Late at night, in the parking garage, Taylor approaches his car. It’s been a very long day. Just dinner, shower, then bed for him. Even the thought of physical companionship is too tiring tonight.

He opens the door of the glossy black Lamborghini Gallardo.

Racer X steps out from the shadows, startling the other man. Without warning, Racer X hits him hard across the face, knocking him down, and nearly taking his head off. He confronts Taylor. “I know what you and your fucking boss did to Speed Racer.”

On the ground, Taylor glares, shrugs, taunts, “So? Maybe the kid wanted it – how do you know? He didn’t fight us. In fact, he seemed pretty eager for it.”

“He said you raped him.”

“That wasn’t rape – it was just a little education. In fact, it was even… mutually… satisfying – if you get my drift.” And touching his mouth, Taylor retorts, “What’s it to you anyway?”

“You hurt someone I care about.”

“Hnh,” Taylor considers. “Maybe Royalton guessed right after all. Maybe the brat really is your little fag,” he notes with interest. “What’s the matter, you don’t like sharing, huh?”

Angrily Racer X pulls him up by his jacket front, knees him hard in the groin. Taylor grunts in agony, sags in the other man’s grip, eyes roll back. “Don’t you _ever_ suggest that again,” X snarls. Then hauling him up, X knees him one more time, then drops him to the ground. “Now either you turn yourself into the police – and bring your slimy boss with you. Or I’ll take both of you bastards in myself, on stretchers, minus a few body parts. Your choice.”

* * * * *

“You fucked with the wrong person this time.” Taylor hisses close to Royalton’s ear, up in Royalton’s pent-house office at the top of Royalton Towers. “Speed Racer is going to bring this place down around your ears. And I don’t intend to be caught in the debris.”

The uncanny parallel to something Speed had first said in Royalton’s office unnerves the silver-haired entrepreneur. But he quickly covers. “What are you talking about?” he blusters. “How can some little punk do that?”

“Because he’s got Racer X behind him.”

“Racer X.” Royalton snorts. “I’m not afraid of that costumed freak.”

“Maybe you should be.” Taylor gives him X’s message.  "I'm outta here, I'm not going to let you use me as a scapegoat." He starts to leave.

“Don’t you walk away from me!” Royalton is irritated. “You enjoyed screwing that little piece of Racer trash as much as I did.”

“But you’re going to take the fall for it – not me,” Taylor counters.

“Ungrateful bastard – after all I’ve done for you. I made you what you are! How dare you desert me!”

Taylor just retorts, “You made nothing! I’d still be the best, with or without your crummy little team. I’ve had enough of you.”

“I even let you sleep with me.”

“Let me?” Taylor snorts. “I’m world champion. I can have anyone I want. You think I like screwing with you? I don’t need a soft fat pig like you. I just did it to get in good with you.”

“You bastard!!” Angrily Royalton grabs Taylor, but Taylor just shoves him away in disgust. “You’d better watch out from now on,” Royalton threatens. “I can buy any number of mechanics to ‘fix’ your car.”

Abruptly, furiously, Taylor slams him into a wood-paneled wall of his elegant office, twists the front of his silk suit in two strong fists, and suddenly fear wavers in Royalton’s eyes. Taylor is far stronger and in better muscular shape than Royalton’s soft body, and they both know it. Taylor counter-threatens, “…if you live long enough.” – and there’s real fear in Royalton’s face that Taylor _is_ going to kill him right then and there. But instead, Taylor just pushes Royalton aside carelessly, and stalks out of the office.

Royalton is furious, trying to think fast how to hide his trail. He calls to Security, demands that they pick up Taylor. But Security says Taylor isn’t there. Royalton goes to the computer, pulls up the security-camera views of the corridor outside his office, where Taylor should be. He’s not there. Royalton is confused. Again he calls to Security – this time there’s no answer. He yells for Gennie – nothing.

X emerges from the shadows, having heard everything. “Y’know, it seems your security system is on the fritz – you really should have it looked at.”

Startled, Royalton jumps, stares at the intruder. X indicates the bank of TV screens on the monitor. Hesitantly, nervously Royalton’s gaze shifts from the demon-in-black to the monitor-picture – it shows that his office is empty. Neither he nor X show up on the screen.

Royalton tries to run, X grabs him. Royalton goes down. X gets him in a choking headlock. “You know, this costumed freak feels like snapping your neck – just like a twig.” He gives a little jerk.

Royalton is whimpering for his life, sweat rolling down his face, staining his purple silk ascot. “Please…don’t! I’ll give you anything!” he gasps in X’s choking grip. “Money – stocks…! A seat on the board…!”

X yanks tighter on the man’s head. A gurgle catches in Royalton’s throat. “Stop,” X’s mutters, “before I break your neck just to shut you up!”

“H…how did you get in here?”

“Ask your buddy Taylor. He got real smart, real fast. Y’know, for once, that bastard and I agree on something. You _are_ a soft fat pig. You know, they’ll like your big soft ass in prison. And it’ll all be captured on the security cameras – but then, you like performing for the cameras, don’t you? You’ll be the star of the cell block – in fact, word’ll probably get around the whole prison.”

Finally the inspector appears out of the shadows as well. “All right, that’s enough, X. We’ve got all we need. Mr. Royalton, you’re under arrest.”

Freed from X’s choking grip, Royalton sneers, “Well, then, arrest Jack Taylor, too – he’s as guilty as I am.”

“Taylor cut his losses and made a deal for probation. How do you think we got your security codes?”

As Royalton is being led away to a police car, Speed is there, outside. Taylor, leaning against his sports car, gives the younger man an empty amused little smile – this time there’s no sexuality in it. But X sees it, and his face tightens angrily. Taylor merely comments lightly to him, “If you haven’t gotten to know the kid better, maybe you should.”

X’s jaw tightens in disgust – he’d slug the man, but Detector is nearby watching them. So instead, X just mutters in a gravelly tone, just loud enough for Taylor to hear, “Keep your mouth off him, or I’ll shut it for you. Just because you’re coöperating with the CIB, don’t think for one second that that gives you any immunity with me. For what you did to the kid, I’d really like to rip off your goddamn balls. Don’t give me an excuse to.”

Taylor climbs into the Lamborghini, still smirking. “I’ll see you on the track.”

X snarls. “I’d rather see _you_ in prison!”

“Well, too bad for you, your boss says that’s not going to happen.” And the world champion drives off with a casual wave of the hand.

* * * * *

Speed and X walk the 3.6 kilometer practice track. At the crest of turn number 8, one can see through a break in the trees all the way down to the city and the ocean beyond, about 8 miles away. There they lean against the tire berm and relax.

Both Speed and X hate it that Taylor isn’t going to go to prison too, to pay for what he did. Nobody likes it, but Royalton is a huge catch, and they need Taylor’s help. “And like the inspector said, that’s just the way the system works, whether you like it or not,” X reminds.

“I never thanked you. For helping me,” Speed says, staring out at the view.

“You don’t have to, Speed,” X replies mildly. “That’s what friends are for.”

Speed nods, but then frowns. “I don’t know what to do,” he finally admits. “I’m messed up… like I don’t know what I want, or… anything… I can’t see being, y’know… close to anyone … ever again. Just the thought of someone… touching me… I get sick to my stomach…”

“That’ll pass,” X assures. “But you don’t need to rush anything. Just let life come to you… in its own time.”

Speed snorts softly. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“I don’t know what to say, Speed.”

“Nothing,” Speed blurts sharply. “You don’t need to say anything.” Then finally, quietly, he adds, “I’m sorry. Just, y’know, being here helps. Thanks.”

“I’ll always be here for you, Speed. I promise.” He gazes out at the view as well. “I dunno. Life is like racing – sometimes you make it past the checkers first, and other times, you’re lucky to make it to the checkers at all. Sometimes you hit the wall, sometimes you get caught in the gravel. Sometimes you get stuck in the pit with a busted gearbox. And sometimes… umm…”

Speed just looks humorously askance. “Is this comment going somewhere?”

X just shrugs with a grin. “I thought it was.”

“Y’know, you really suck at analogies.”

“Yeah, well, I never was very good at English composition.”

At that Speed chuckles, which turns into laughter, then into uncontrollable giggles, X joining in. It feels good to laugh – Speed hadn't thought he ever would again.

He’s made it to the checkers this time. Battered, but he’s made it. And that’s all that counts in the record books.

* * * * * FINIS * * * * *


End file.
